Mott Street, 449

You see that I’m a ladies’ man,
The girls get stuck on my clothes,
It costs ten thousand dollars a year
To color up my nose;
Some people think that I’m Vanderbilt,
And on Fifth Avenue dwell,
The ladies buy the photograph
Of Paddy, the dandy swell.

I move in the best society,
That’s in the County Jail:
French brandy and champagne, too,
I guzzle by the pail;
Among the Wall street “Bulls and Bears,”
My stocks and bonds I sell;
I draw checks on a sand bank,
For I am, boys, the dandy swell.

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